


Lolli

by redwinehouse (orphan_account)



Series: Cranial Capacity INDEFINITE HIATUS, BUT A FULL STORY LINE WAS COMPLETED [10]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Comedy, F/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-07-30
Updated: 2017-07-30
Packaged: 2018-12-08 22:19:11
Rating: Mature
Warnings: Graphic Depictions Of Violence
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,507
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/11655861
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/redwinehouse
Summary: Sherlock acts on his first tip, although life at home is not normal. You watch as he becomes cold and distant, hardly giving you a glance while immersing himself in the Case of Jane Doe. Meanwhile, a monster stalks the streets of London to find his next victim.





	Lolli

  


[ ](http://www.dazzlejunction.com/generators/image-generator.php)

  


Our killer put another cigarette to his lips and tried to turn on his lighter. To his annoyance, it took him three times to get a flame. "'Gotta replace this fucking thing," he mumbled in a Brooklyn accent, his voice cracking from years of inhaling smoke. 

He reached down into a greasy bag of fries and stuffed them into his mouth. This was his third bag. At 6ft 4, he had a ravenous appetite. He brought his hand back to his binoculars and sank lower into his seat. The van he was in was brown and rusty, surprisingly inconspicuous in this part of the city

Why the fuck he had to go around the seediest parts of London to kidnap and kill specific little girls was beyond him. If anything, it was stupid, insulting, and a waste of his time and skills. It only took one good whack or a single bullet to the head and it's light's out for the little scamps. The worst part was that he couldn't back out of his contract or he was going to be 'sleepin' with the fishes'. He was pretty sure they had put a tracker on him in case he went rogue.

His employers refused to name themselves, but he still took the job because the money was good and no questions were asked. Nice and clean, just the way he liked it.

"About time." He had been stalking a small shantytown for hours. He finally saw a woman leave a small girl with the features he was looking for. With no one in sight, he slinked out of the van and stalked over.

This one was dressed only in an oversized, moth-eaten sweater that stank like a sewer. He could tell that she was several months younger than the last.

"Hey, kid," he whispered. The girl looked up warily, her small arms wrapped around herself to keep away from the cold. "I got 'ya something." He held out a lolli, which she nabbed in a heartbeat. "I have a whole bag over there." He pointed to the van. "Do you wanna go?" She nodded and waddled into his arms. "Great," he said softly. "Let's go get you that lolli."

~*~

A breath rattling sigh left your lips. You were watching as Sherlock tacked up pictures of the crime scene. You saw little hands, little feet, little toes, and a little girl that looked so close to yours.

"These pictures are rubbish," Sherlock snapped as he stood back, "They're hardly in focus and none of the essential bits are even photographed."

"Then why didn't you take them?" He turned to you, a look of utter confusion on his face, "I mean, aren't you the one who usually takes the pictures?"

Sherlock shook himself awake. "I, er...must have forgotten," he admitted, swiftly turning his back to you.

"John, I want to start looking at every sweets shop to find potential witnesses or even camera footage."

"What would we even be looking for?" John asked, "a lot of kids buy candy with their parents, Sherlock."

Sherlock gave an agitated sigh. "Yes, but how many of them buy in bulk and possibly drag a kid dressed in rags around?"

"My mother," John chided and you laughed.

Sherlock looked between the two of you. "I don't understand."

"If you don't get the joke you don't deserve to get the joke," John said, still laughing as he typed in the information he needed. "There are fifteen well known candy shops in London. Hotel Chocolat and Spun Candy being the closest to Hackney."

Sherlock nodded his head. "Okay. Hotel Chocolat first." He began to put on his coat and scarf.

John stood up. "Why?"

"Jade likes to chew their strawberry chocolate. She's teething."

You stood up and pulled Sherlock into a hug, which he returned with a roll of his eyes, knowing what you were to say next:

"Stay safe and don't do anything stupid."

John snorted. "We'll try but that's what we're good at."

"We promise not to drown in a chocolate river or turn into a blueberry. Goodbye."

Sherlock and John hustled down the stairs and out the door of 221 Baker Street.

"You know, you can really be less of a dick if you tried. I know this case is really upsetting you, but it doesn't mean you have the right to take it out on her. She has it just as bad."

Sherlock hailed down a cab. "I don't know what you're talking about," he dismissed as they slid into the car. "27 Tottenharm Court Road," Sherlock ordered.

"Ah, got a bit of a sweet tooth today?" the cabbie asked good-heartedly as he pulled away from the curb.

"No," Sherlock gave him a smile, "trying to figure out who brutally murdered a little girl. Close, though."

John groaned. "Ignore him. Please." he looked at Sherlock. "The level of dick-ness you are being..." he stopped for a moment in annoyed reverence, "is _amazing_. Truly. Who pissed in your cereal this morning?"

"First," Sherlock said as he stared out the window, "I did not eat cereal for breakfast. You sat right across from me and saw that I had a fourth of a bite of toast. Second, I don't know what you're talking about."

"Oh," John laughed humorlessly, "yes you do."

"Drop it, John."

John shook his head. "No, I won't. It's completely unfair to everyone in the flat, especially for –"

"I said drop it!" Sherlock shouted, hitting the seat with his open palm.

John held his hands up in surrender. "Okay, okay! It's dropped."

The most awkward silence filled the cab, but Sherlock didn't notice as he pressed his forehead against the window's glass. He had already regretted lashing out because John was right; he was acting colder than usual since he picked up the Jane Doe case. Perhaps it was his way to distance himself from his family, thus his emotional attachment. Solving a murder of a young girl that looked like his baby would be easier that way. Sherlock Holmes was only acting logically.

"Alright. We're here," the cabbie said, clearly anxious to get the men out of his car. Sherlock noticed the extra tip John gave him and the muttered "Sorry," but he ignored it.

Without even waiting for his partner, Sherlock barged into the chocolate shop and made his way to the counter. John watched in horror as he grabbed the customers in line and threw them out of the way. He ignored the protests, shouts, and obscenities.

"Hey, buddy, you can't do that!" the cashier started, but Sherlock cut him off.

"This is official business of the Scotland Yard. I am detective Sherlock Holmes and that is Dr. John Watson. Follow?"

"I sure do, sir." The cashier was a man most likely in his mid-sixties, slightly heavy set with a grey mustache. He had a very kind face and did not seem the type to give them any trouble. "Let me just get one of the kids to cover the counter and we can talk." Sherlock and John waited until he came back with a younger man who quickly started to take orders.

"My name is Larry. My office is right over here." He led them to a room on the right side of the store. "Please have a seat." He gestured to the two chairs in front of his desk.

"Thanks," John said as Sherlock sat wordlessly.

"Now," Larry said as he lowered himself into his chair, "how may I help you boys?"

~*~

"What the fuck do you mean about whether I smashed her head the right fucking way? Her head's smashed. What else am I supposed to tell you?" Our killer said into his phone. "Yeah, she's fucking dead! Do you think I'm stupid?"

He was pacing under a small bridge next to the body of the now lifeless little girl he had offered a lolli just a short time ago.

He kneeled down next to the girl, who was lying face down in the road. "Well, I'm pretty sure she fit the bill. I'll check again, Jesus." a cigarette hung out of the corner of his mouth as he grabbed the tiny girl's hair and pulled her head back. "Yeah. She's got blue eyes and the right hair. Skull's completely mush but you can still see it. You happy?"

He paused as he listened to his employer then rolled his eyes. "This is fucking ridiculous. Are you the middle man? Have you ever had to do this shit? I'm thinking of just backing out because that is just goddamn stupid." He paused again, this time for much longer. He walked around, now paying more attention to his surroundings. Finally he sighed. "If that's how it's gonna be done, that's how it's gonna be done." With that, he hung up.

He looked at the little girl for a moment before taking the dying cigarette from his mouth and extinguishing it on her forehead. Then he picked her up and carried her to the van.

**Author's Note:**

> I loved writing this more than I can explain. 
> 
> It wasn't until I was halfway done with the first paragraph that I was picturing (as appearance.) Gaear from Fargo, one of my favorite movies.


End file.
